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06/05/2015

My Journey to Fitness

When I was growing
up I was never the athletic type whilst I loved all things a tomboy (no
seriously I don’t think I owned a pair of heels until I was at least 16) did, I
didn’t have an athletic bone in my body. In gym class I was the last to be
picked for the team, you could sense the disappointment when I was the last one
left for sides on netball. To be fair to those choosing teams I really couldn’t
blame them. I would head butt the netball or rather just let it slam into the
side of my face. Long jump I would skid and fall over before I even made it to
the sand pit, high jump my bum would hit the post every single time, even on
the low jumps. Of all my sporting events that I tried to participate in I won
just one race, it was an 800 metre run and the poor lass next to me started to
vomit. Thinking back I should have stopped to help her but I was so excited at
the prospect of finally winning something I just pegged it to the finishing
line. My proudest sporting moment was a pure fluke.

Needless to say my
continuous failures and humiliations didn’t create a love for sports or general
fitness; it was an enemy of mine. So I never thought I would be writing about
my journey to fitness. Had I not put on 2 stone of love chub, you know that
little tummy pouch you gain when you meet someone and become happy and settled,
I probably still wouldn’t be writing about this.

My first attempt at
getting into fitness was in 2009 – I had been with Daniel for around 6 months
and anyone who knows my other half knows that unlike me he has always been an
avid sports partaker, king of the football field at school and always the first
to be picked to run for the school track team. So this one day I agreed to go
jogging with him. Well, I got to bus stop at the end of the road before I
collapsed into a blue heap of mess. I couldn’t breathe, I had stitch & I
couldn’t see straight. And that was the end of that.

In January 2014 in
6 months of being content in our new home, making lots of tasty homemade meals
& cakes for the mister (and clearly myself) I had mastered being a
housewife on top of working full time, but I had also put on 2 stoneSo I
decided it was time to do something about it. At first I did what everyone
does, I went on a diet. I’ll talk more about my relationship with food in a
later post, but long story short, the diet alone did not work, and it only got
me so far before I hit a plateau. After months of me moaning about the scales
not moving and having to buy bigger sized clothes, my other half convinced me
to try the local gym.

So, the first gym
session… we walk in and there’s this super buff male personal trainer there to
show me the ropes, instantly I felt intimidated and want to walk my wobbly butt
right back out of there. But no I sucked it up, sucked my belly in and
completed the induction. I
wouldn’t say I was instantly in love with the gym, it was a progression. Daniel
assisted me for my first couple of months (he has his own gym personally
designed for his goals). I had a few, (ok a lot) of hiccups, the first time I
did planks for example I fell flat on my face in front of about 10 people, the
first couple of times I tried doing squats my knee’s would go over my feet and
Daniel would have to correct my posture telling me I would do my back in (and
that’s before I started lifting). It took me months to learn how to control my
breathing. Around 2 months into going to the gym twice a week I started to see
small results. I find going to the gym also helps you control your eating
because you’re cautious of ruining the hard work you’ve put in. When I started
seeing the results I upped my game and started going to the gym 4 nights a week
- religiously. The burn became an addiction, I slept better in the evenings,
and I was genuinely less stressed in life. After 3 months of not giving up I
had learned to love it, to need it in my life. The gym became my safe haven and
my therapist. I felt like I had more control over my life than I ever had
before.

Generally I work
out alone, just me myself and my Spotify playlist, but I find you get to
recognise faces after a while. This familiarity is comforting.

I learn a lot of
the different exercises I do from watching other peoples personal training
sessions, YouTube & I follow a big group of different fitness fanatics on
Instagram which I not only learn from, but I’m inspired by them. They help to
keep my game strong and my mind focused.

Even after learning
what I have and working out as often as I do, I still don’t find it easy; I
don’t think I ever will. After a year of gruelling work outs, good sessions and
bad I finally lost the 2 stone of love chub.

I don’t want to
lose any more weight, in fact I am slowly putting it back but on in muscle.
Even after hitting my weight loss target I feel like I have barely scratched
the surface of my fitness journey. I want to tone, define, and maintain what I
have built.

There’s no quick
fix, just hard work and dedication. There is no end game; this is a healthy way
of life, for life. I wouldn’t change it for the world.